Hidden Depths
by shepsgirl72
Summary: Inspired by the latest Sheppard h c challenge over on LJ, but posted here instead. Theme: Lies/deceit/or betrayal. Sheppard has to deal with the fact his life might be permanently changed after sustaining an injury off-world. One Shot


When the pain of bones grating against raw nerves woke him, Sheppard was immediately into fighting mode, arms flailing to push restraining hands away. The more he struggled, the more it hurt, and it was only after a few minutes that he realised the pain was coming from his blood soaked, half splinted and bandaged right arm.

"Sheppard! Sheppard, it's us. Ouch! OUCH! Stop...stop hitting us and lay still! SHEPPARD!"

McKay's whining finally cut through the bubble wrap of confusion and brought the colonel to his senses. In front of him, McKay and Teyla's worried faces, scratched and bruised, peered at him as if cautiously ascertaining he was himself again. The last thing he remembered was fighting to free himself from the enemy's grip. Now he was back with his friends, but one face was missing.

'Ronon!' he gasped, tying to push up with his one good arm.

'Ronon is fine, Colonel. Now please, be still and let me finish dressing your arm.'

Sheppard lay back on the cushion Teyla had made for him with her jacket. 'Where is he?'

'When we couldn't wake you, he headed back to the gate to get Carson and another jumper. It's less than a mile so it wouldn't have taken him long,' McKay explained, grimacing as he helped Teyla by holding Sheppard's injured arm steady as she finished wrapping bandages around the splint.

'Alone and unarmed!' Sheppard complained, gritting his teeth and trying to move again.

Teyla easily pushed him back, and he panted through a wave of pain radiating from his injured forearm up to his shoulder. 'He will be back soon. We just have to wait here and he will bring help,' she insisted.

New pains began to surface along with his increasing awareness of his surroundings and what had happened. The back of his head hurt, which he assumed was the reason why he had lost consciousness. His ribs on the right side also ached, suggesting he'd cracked at least a couple of them. Thankfully, nothing below waist level hurt, so he should be able to...

_Nothing_. He tried to bend his legs, but no matter how often he gave the mental command for them to move, they were having no part of it. This was bad. This was very bad.

'I...I can't move my legs!' he said, his voice barely registering above a whisper.

Rodney's jaw fell slack. 'What?'

'I can't feel them...I can't move them!' Sheppard repeated, his voice cracking with panic despite his attempts to remain calm.

'Oh God,' Rodney breathed. 'We should never have moved him.'

'We couldn't leave him where he had fallen. His position was too exposed if the Bremans came looking for us,' Teyla replied.

'But he can't feel his legs!'

'Rodney! You're not helping!' she hissed. She laid her hand on Sheppard's shoulder, and he heard her call his name a few times before he gave her his attention. 'Listen to me, Colonel. Ronon will be back soon with Dr Beckett and he will help you. You are going to be fine.'

Sheppard saw her lips moving, but the words bounced of the invisible shield of world shattering fear that had enveloped him at the moment he'd realised he was paralysed. Again, he desperately tried to will his legs into action, just the wiggle of a foot or the slight bend of a knee, anything that would give him hope. Nothing; no feeling – no movement, not even a twitch.

'This can't be happening,' he breathed, his left hand punching at his thighs in the vain hope of causing even a flicker of pain in them. Still nothing.

Teyla caught his hand to stop him. 'Dr Beckett will know what to do. Try not to panic or do anything that could cause more damage.'

His attention abruptly returned to the here and now at the sound of those words. 'I think that'd be pretty hard, don't you?' he snapped. Then he bit back his emotions. 'I'm sorry...it's just that my arms hurts.

He could see from the look in her eyes that she didn't believe him.

'This...this doesn't have to be all bad,' Rodney babbled, his face pasty with anxiety. 'I mean, it might be temporary...but...but even if it isn't...you could still fly the jumper with us, right? We could go out together and you can –'

'Fly your cab?' Sheppard finished. He knew Rodney was lying to him, trying to keep his spirits up, but it wasn't helping. He just wanted his damn legs back.

'Please, Colonel. Try to stay calm and quiet. Ronon will be back soon, but we don't want to draw attention to ourselves before he gets here.'

'You think someone could be looking for us?' Rodney squeaked.

'They need either Colonel Sheppard or yourself to fly the jumper. If they survived the crash, I think there's a chance they will come looking for us,' Teyla explained.

Teyla was right, and the thought that his friends might be in danger helped Sheppard regain his focus. Did you manage to grab any weapons before we jumped?'

Teyla nodded. 'I took the revolver from the supplies in the rear compartment while getting the medical kit to treat the cut on Ronon's head.'

Sheppard remembered now that the Satedan had fought their captors when the Bremans had taken control of the jumper. Typical Ronon; he never gave up without a fight. 'Good, where is it?' Sheppard asked.

He saw the flash of doubt cross her face before she answered. 'I have it in my holster.'

'Give it to me,' he ordered.

'Er, Teyla...could I have a word with you?' Rodney asked with an odd jerking of his head to show the direction she should walk with him.

Teyla gave Sheppard a sympathetic smile, one that made him madder than he already felt. Was that what he could expect from now on? If he'd lost the use of his legs, would everyone treat him that way – smiling to his face ad whispering behind his back?

He tried to listen in as the two of them talked, seeing them cast the occasional glance his way. They weren't going to give him the gun; that much was obvious from the way they were looking at him. They thought he wanted it for purposes other than to defend them. Perhaps he did...

No, he hadn't thought that. They needed him. He could still be useful...if only until they were safely off the planet. After that...no, he had to concentrate on the here and now. He would deal with what was to some when it couldn't be ignored anymore.

'Colonel, Rodney and I have discussed the gun, and we feel I should keep possession of it, as I am the more capable of defending us should the need arise,' Teyla said, her face once again reflecting the pity she felt for his situation.

Anger boiled up like a lava flow within Sheppard. Things were bad enough without his team turning on him like this. 'I see,' he spat. 'You and Rodney decided that, did you? And when exactly did I stop being the leader of this team? About the time my legs got paralysed, I suppose?'

Teyla's eyes darted to Rodney, who looked equally as shocked by Sheppard's accusation as she did. 'I'm sorry, we didn't mean to upset you...'

'I'm not upset,' he raged. 'I'm angry that you think you need to make decisions behind my back because I can't walk.'

'We didn't think...'

'I know exactly what you were thinking,' he shot back. 'It's written all over both your faces so there's no point lying to me.'

They looked at each other again, then Rodney started his babbling. 'Look, Sheppard. There's a chance that what's happened is just temporary. It could just be swelling that's causing the paralysis and over a few weeks things'll get back to normal...'

'So why are you treating me like everything's different?' Sheppard demanded, his gaze burning into his friend until he felt forced to turn away.

'I'm sorry. I should never have agreed to give those guys a ride in the jumper to pick up the ZedPM. This is all my fault,' Rodney whined, looking pitiful as he sank despondently to the ground a few feet away.

Feeling guilty, Sheppard reined in his misplaced anger to offer his friend some support. 'Don't feel bad about it. McKay, I would have agreed to it anyway.'

'You would?' Rodney asked, daring to lift his head to look at him again.

'Well, they seemed genuine enough. How were you to know they wanted the jumper?'

'And that is why I fear they might come in search of us,' Teyla interjected, kneeling beside him. 'They need either you or Rodney to fly the jumper. Without either of you, the craft is useless.'

'Trust us to pick a planet plotting civil war,' Rodney sighed. 'It all seemed so peaceful when we passed over to read the energy signals.'

'You weren't to know, Rodney,' Sheppard reiterated, trying to push himself up into a more comfortable position. Pain shot through his ribs and arm as he made the attempt, reminding him just how helpless he was.

Teyla quickly moved to restrain him. 'Colonel, it is vital you remain still. We do not know what further damage movement might do to you.'

His heart sank. Teyla thought it was serious, more serious than Rodney was suggesting. The truth was there was no way of knowing until he'd had a scan back at Atlantis. There was a chance this could be permanent. The though unleashed another wave of panic that threatened to overwhelm him, but he refused to give it the light of day. He wanted his companions to think he was dealing with this, not drowning in his sense futility.

'We shouldn't have moved him,' Rodney muttered again, shaking his head. 'We should have considered the chance of spinal injuries. We saw how hard he hit the floor.'

'Rodney, this isn't your fault,' Sheppard ground out, wondering now how McKay could possibly make this horrible situation all about him. 'I was the one who suggested we jump out, so if anyone's to blame, it's me.'

'No one is to blame,' Teyla said firmly. 'This was an accident. No one would have wished this to happen. I'm sure not even the Bremans intended to do us any harm really. They just wanted the jumper to increase their chances in their fight with their enemy.'

Once Sheppard had realised the Bremans planned to use the jumper in their war, he'd tapped out a message on the control panel, pretending it was just a nervous reaction to their situation. He knew Rodney understood Morse Code, and through the series of taps and spaces he'd told the scientist that he was going to take the jumper down as low and slow as he could and they should blow the rear hatch and jump. The plan had worked, until one of the Bremans had tried to force him to go back so they could pick his friends up. Sheppard had punched the guy, then fought his way to the back of the craft through their grasping hands, launching himself from the open rear compartment just as the jumper was beginning to gain altitude again.

'Great! So now they have a damaged jumper and they're pissed with us, and we only have one gun and...' Rodney squeaked, stopping short of finishing his sentence when his eyes met Sheppard's. He couldn't even voice what he thought about the colonel's situation, but Sheppard knew he thought his injuries were severe. 'Can I just point out how screwed we are if they do decide to come back?'

'I'd prefer it if you didn't,' John growled. It seemed to him he was screwed no matter who made it to them first. Without the use of his legs, his military career was over. He would have to leave Atlantis. He couldn't even bear to let that thought form for more than a second before he had to push it away. Atlantis was the only place he'd ever felt like he truly belonged. If he couldn't stay there, where would he go, and what would he do?

His eyes drifted down to the gun in Teyla's thigh holster. The thought was suddenly more tempting...

'D'you hear that?' Rodney hissed, his eyes suddenly huge as saucers.

Sheppard snapped his eyes away from the gun. Voices. They were distant, but it sounded like they might be heading their way. 'I don't believe I've heard a jumper approach our position,' Teyla whispered. 'If someone is coming this way, I do not believe it will be Ronon returning.'

'Gimme the gun,' Sheppard insisted, thrusting his hand out toward her.

'It would be better if I defended us,' she reiterated, her expression telling him she meant to fight for him.

'No, it would be better if the two of you got yourselves the hell out of here while I hold the Bremans off,' he pointed out.

'What? We can't leave you here to do that...you can barely move!' Rodney protested, his gaze darting between his injured friend and Teyla so quickly the colonel was surprised it didn't make him dizzy.

'Look, you two can't make an escape with me in tow, so the logical thing to do is give me the gun so I can distract them while you head to the 'gate.'

'No...no way!' McKay hissed. 'We're not abandoning you just so we can save our own asses.'

'Would you think twice about me staying to lay down cover fire if I could use my legs?' Sheppard asked.

Rodney looked sheepish. 'Well, of course I would,' he lied, clearly understanding the point Sheppard was trying to make.

Teyla glanced in the direction of the voices and made a quick decision. She pressed the gun into Sheppard's hand. 'I will do my best to get Rodney to the 'gate, and then I will come back for you,' she told him, her eyes holding his gaze with the same intensity as the strength of her promise.

'No. If you get as far as opening the 'gate, you'll go through with him, that's and order.'

'I can't believe we're even contemplating agreeing to this. We should stick together,' Rodney gasped. 'Give me the gun; I'll fire the damn thing!'

'Rodney...I'm not Gaul,' Sheppard said, his voice strong and even in the hope of giving his friend confidence in him. He knew Rodney had never really got over the death of the young scientist, and though he would never say it out loud, he blamed himself for not reading the signs before handing Gaul a gun to defend himself. The order to do that had been Sheppard's. Rodney had nothing to feel sorry for.

'I...I know that,' the scientist said softly, looking away.

'So, go. I'm not about to shoot myself when I have you two to protect.'

Rodney gave him one last long look before Teyla insisted they leave. She pushed him away, the scientist almost tripping over his own feet as he ran, his eyes fixed on Sheppard until the surrounding trees blocked him from view.

Alone now, Sheppard had a moment to take stock of his situation. With his shooting arm injured, and his legs useless, he doubted he could hold the Bremans off by fighting for long. It might be better to pretend to be unconscious and let them mull over what to do with him for a while. Fighting while laying there like a sitting duck meant he would be picked off easily, and then they would go after Rodney and Teyla. And though Rodney was useful, Teyla was ultimately dispensable. He needed to keep these people focussed on him until his friends were safe. It wasn't as if he was much use to anyone anymore. One way or another, this was likely to be his last act in his role as military commander of Atlantis, and he intended to go out protecting people, just as he always did.

Concealing the gun beneath his hip while still gripping it, he lay still and waited, some part of him hoping he would hear the drone of a jumper and that would distract the Bremans from their search. Gradually, he heard their footsteps getting closer. It sounded like some of them were injured; one was definitely breathing heavily and another appeared to be favouring one leg from the cadence of his stride. Eventually, he heard their surprised responses as they spotted him lying in amongst the undergrowth. Moments later fingers pressed his neck, checking for a pulse.

'He's still alive. I'm surprised after the fall he took.'

'Yeah, well, he obviously didn't want us using the jumper. But if the thing still works and we can get that rear hatch back on and sealed, he's getting it airborne for us whether he likes it or not.'

Sheppard recognised that voice. It was Larphus, the man who had taken them under his wing when they'd arrived on Brema and persuaded them they could have the power source they'd traced to their world, as they had no need for it themselves. He'd used the ZPM as bait to lure them into his trap.

The Bremans in this particular area of Brema were in possession of an Ancient weapon capable of destroying vast swathes of land. But the ZPM to power it was at the bottom of the ocean, after someone wishing to maintain peace on the planet had sabotaged the weapon several decades ago. Seeing them arrive with the jumper, obviously an ancient vessel, had started Larphus plotting. He'd plied Rodney with questions about the vessel, no doubt wondering if it, too, was powered by a ZPM. When he'd found out it was capably of journeying underwater, he'd changed tactics, hijacking the vessel to force them to seek out what he needed on the seabed.

Sheppard didn't like being lied to. He had respect for an enemy who would come right out and state their position, but people who lied and manipulated him, hurting his friends and betraying his trust were beyond contempt in his opinion.

'D'you think his friends just left him here?' another voice asked. That was Rannal, he remembered, the youngest member of the group they'd offered to take on a flight. Offering to do that had been a mistake, but not one he couldn't have made himself. He hoped Rodney didn't feel too bad if he didn't get out of this. He didn't want him thinking his death, as well as Gaul's, were his responsibility.

'He's injured. They strapped up his arm. Look.' That was another voice, one he didn't recognise, but there had been four other men on that flight that he'd only seen at a distance before; it could be any one of them.

'He must be more badly hurt than that if they left him here like this,' he heard Rannal say.

'Unless this is a trap,' Larphus pointed out. 'They could have left him here as bait.'

'But they're unarmed.'

'That's true –'

'Not quite,' Sheppard said, slipping the gun from under his hip and putting it to Larphus' temple. 'Now, get your men to put their guns down and kick them over here, or I'm gonna do a little DIY ventilation on that hot head of yours.'

Larphus' face fell. 'Sheppard. I should have known you of all your people could pull a trick like this.'

'I'll take that as a compliment,' Sheppard grinned fiercely, his aim unwavering.

Larphus gave a half-hearted smile in return. 'That McKay thinks he's the smart one, but I always suspected you were the one to watch.'

'Okay, don't lay in on too thick. Just tell your men to do what I asked,' Sheppard ordered.

He suspected the Breman wasn't about to do that, and his intuition proved right as usual. 'What makes you think you can shoot all of us before we can overpower you.'

Sheppard didn't show a flicker of concern at the man's words. 'Maybe you can, but one thing's for sure. If your men try anything, I'm putting a bullet in your head. Are you ready to die today, Larphus?'

'What I do, I do to protect me people. If my death is the price I have to pay, I give it willingly – just as you would.'

_Great!_ Sheppard thought. _Just for once, it would be nice to come up against someone who values their life more than I do._

'Well, if you're sure. But I can guarantee you will die, and since you need me to fly the jumper, I doubt you can say the same.'

'We'll find McKay. I doubt your friends will leave you behind for long, and we know he can fly it, too.'

'He told you that, did he?' Sheppard smirked.

Larphus narrowed his eyes. 'He has the Ancient gene. We've seen him use their technology.'

'I'm not saying he doesn't...but have you ever seen him fly a jumper?' He laughed and shook his head.

Larphus now looked a little worried. Licking his lips he called, 'Throw down your guns like he asks. I'm sure we can work something out without the need to shed any blood.'

Each of the five men with him lay their guns on the ground and kicked them in Sheppard's direction, beyond their reach.

'Now each of you back up a few paces,' he instructed, hoping they didn't wonder why he wasn't collecting up their weapons. They did so, keeping their eyes on their leader while waiting for his instructions.

'Now, Sheppard – John – you must realise that you have no hope of overwhelming us, so what exactly is your plan?'

The use of his first name by someone he considered to be anything but a friend jarred with Sheppard. His lips thinned to an angry line as he held Larphus' gaze. 'I don't actually have a plan. I just don't intend to help you get the ZPM you need to power that weapon of yours.'

'I wonder if you are really here alone,' Larphus mused. 'Perhaps your friends are watching us, waiting to pounce.' He scoured the area with his eyes, his friends looking about them, too. No one leapt to Sheppard's aid.

'It does seem unlikely that his friends have left him,' Rannal agreed.

Sheppard allowed his eyes to move from Larphus to his young friend for just a moment, but movement from the older man soon helped him to regain his focus. 'Stay exactly where you are,' he warned the man.

'Oh, I think we know why his friends abandoned him,' Larphus called to the others, a wicked grim now spreading across his face.

Sheppard didn't get it. The man had actually seemed close to breaking a moment ago, but now his confidence was mounting again. 'What d'you mean?' he demanded, feeling beads of sweat breaking out on his forehead. He inwardly cursed his body for betraying him when he needed it to help him pull of his charade.

'Well, you would have slowed them down,' Larphus snorted. 'And don't tell me that isn't true, because if you still had the use of your legs, you would have at least flinched when I did that.'

Sheppard didn't want to take his eyes off him, but curiosity won out. When he looked in the direction Larphus was pointing in, he saw a slim bladed knife wedged into his thigh, blood oozing out from around it. The sight broke his concentration, and in that moment, Larphus launched for the gun, grabbing him by the throat.

'Your friends may not have a use for you anymore, cripple, but if you can still fly a jumper, you'll still be useful to us. We're you hoping we would shoot you while your friends escaped?'

Larphus punched Sheppard in his broken arm. The pain was overwhelming and without thinking he dropped his weapon in shock and tried to defend himself.

Larphus pulled him up by the shirtfront and punched him. Just as stars flashed into his vision, Sheppard heard a primal roar, and Ronon flung himself into Larphus, freeing Sheppard from the man's grip. The colonel fell back, dizzy and in pain, hearing the shouts of troops ordering the Bremans to hold their positions and keep their hands where they could see them. He let his head drop to the ground and closed his eyes, knowing it was over and his friends were safe.

Rescue had arrived, but for once, Sheppard wasn't sure he was entirely happy about it.

*****

'Steady. We all have to lift him together. So...on three. One, two, three.'

Ronon, Carson and two of his medical team lifted Sheppard, still strapped to a backboard, onto a gurney in the infirmary. Even that steady motion jarred his arm and he sucked in a breath to hold back a cry. In a way, he welcomed the pain. If only he could feel something similar in his legs

John closed his eyes and tried to hold back tears that threatened to spill over. He felt more helpless than he had ever felt in his life and he just wanted it to be over. Why hadn't he pushed the Bremans? Why hadn't he turned the gun on himself before they'd even reached him? He couldn't go through life like this.

'All right, Colonel. I'm going to give you a quick examination, redress that leg wound, and then we'll scan you to find out what's going on,' Carson said, smiling down at him and giving his shoulder a squeeze.

Ronon had backed off a few paces to let the medical team in to do their job. Sheppard saw him, his face a portrait of anguish, and whispered to Carson to get him out of there.

Carson was clearly surprised by the request, but nodded and gently persuaded Ronon to wait outside while Sheppard was prepared for his scan. One of the nurses began to remove the field dressing from his arm, sending wave after wave of stomach-knotting pain radiating through him. Sheppard sucked in another breath and held back his groans, determined not to show how much it hurt. In truth, it didn't hurt anywhere near as much as the thought that he would soon be leaving Atlantis.

Carson's team bustled around him. He saw his boots being taken away and heard them cutting the material of his trouser leg to reveal the stab wound for treatment. Occasionally, they spoke reassurances to him, squeezing his shoulder, or stroking his uninjured arm. He felt moisture building in his eyes again, but he refused to let the tears come. No one was going to see how low this had brought him.

'All right, son. Can you feel that?' Carson asked, returning to his bedside.

Sheppard rolled his eyes in the doctor's direction. 'Feel what?'

'Not to worry. How about this?'

Again, Sheppard had no clue what he meant.

Carson repeated the question three more times until Sheppard suddenly felt a dull pain in the sole of his right foot. The doctor clearly saw his reaction. 'Did you feel something that time?'

'Something,' Sheppard muttered.

'And now?'

Sheppard felt a prod against the bottom of his left foot. 'Yeah...just about.'

'That's brilliant, Colonel. Now, we're going to run the scan. I don't want you to worry about a thing. You just lie still and let us do all the work.'

What should have been soothing words stung Sheppard with their poignancy. If this scan showed he had severe damage to his spine that might be pretty much all he could do where Atlantis was concerned. His days of active duty there would be over.

Carson wheeled the gurney into the scanning bay and the intense green light of the Ancient body scanner passed over him from head to toe and back again.

An image fired up and John could just make out Carson studying it, frowning in concentration. His expression gave nothing away; not relief, not worry, just the face of a man engrossed in his work.

'Take Colonel Sheppard into one of the side bays, would you?' Carson called to one of his colleagues. 'I'll be with you in a minute, son.'

Sheppard didn't react because he didn't know how to. The fact Carson had asked them to put him in a side room didn't bode well – why would he need privacy if the news was good? His hands began to tremble, in fact, he realised his whole upper body now shook violently. He couldn't think of a time when he'd ever been this scared in his life; not in Afghanistan, not facing the Wraith, not when Kolya tortured him, not even when Nancy had told him she couldn't live with him anymore, and that had hit him hard. If Nancy, who supposedly loved him so much couldn't deal with his lifestyle, did that mean he would always be alone?

He put on his brave face, smiling as a nurse threw an extra blanket across him, perhaps mistaking his trembling for cold rather than the shock it was. Then she left and he was alone.

He lay staring up at the ceiling, unable to move his head or his legs, and wondered how he was ever going to get through life like this. He had no one back on Earth who cared enough to support him. His friends –his family – were all here.

Carson bustled in, striding up to the bed and grasping Sheppard's left wrist firmly. 'Sorry to leave you alone like that. I just wanted to double check the scans before letting you know what I've found.'

'That's okay, Doc,' Sheppard replied, but his voice sounded strange, almost alien to him it was so cracked with emotion.

'Well...' Carson breathed in deeply. 'Yer one lucky bugger, Colonel Sheppard. The injury to your back isn't too serious. You've some tissue damage around the spinal cord at T8 and 9, which is putting pressure on your spinal cord, but the cord itself is undamaged. The fact you have some feeling in your feet means the swelling is already reducing, and with a bit of luck, all feeling will return in the next couple of hours.' The doctor grinned at him, his blue eyes sparkling with joy.

'So...this isn't permanent?'

'Not at all. You should be back on yer feet later today, and in a day or two you should be more or less back to normal. But I want yeh to take it steady for the next few weeks at least. You might notice some reduction in your reflex time for a while, and I want to ensure that tissue damage is fully repaired before you go out in the field again.'

John nodded, but had hardly heard a word Carson had said after 'back to normal' the sense of relief was so immense. Warmth rushed through him, making him realise how cold his shock had left him. There was a good chance he was going to be all right. It was the best news he could have hoped for.

Carson reeled off the rest of his injuries, and John caught odd words like, 'mild concussion' and 'compound fracture', but he didn't care. He'd heard all he needed to hear. As the doctor prattled on, his tears finally broke free and ran down the side of his face.

It took a few seconds for Carson to slow and come to a halt. Sheppard hadn't even noticed he'd stopped until he felt the man squeeze his upper arm. 'It's all right, Colonel. I don't have to tell you all this right now.'

Sheppard bit back the tears, sucking in his bottom lip and biting down on it until he regained some composure. 'It's fine, Doc. It's just...'

'Yeh don't need to explain,' Carson smiled gently. 'This must've been a hellishly scary day for yeh.'

'Yeah. It has been,' Sheppard confessed.

'Well, you just get it out of yer system. I'll tell yeh now, I've seen bigger men than you in here howling over a lot less.'

John smiled, but the tears kept building. 'I'm fine, Doc.'

'Not yet, yer not. But yeh will be,' Carson promised. 'Now, we need to start you on a course of steroid injections for that swelling, and we need to get that arm properly set and the wound in your leg sutured, but then I think there's probably a whole crowd of people outside waiting to see yeh. Are yeh up to a visit?'

Pressing his lips together in an effort to ward off another wave of emotion, Sheppard said, 'Could you keep them out a while longer. I don't want them to see me like this.'

Carson frowned, but nodded. 'Of course, but yeh do realise no one will think any less of yeh if they see yeh showing a bit of emotion from time to time.'

'I'm the military commander here. I don't want to lose anyone's respect.'

Carson sighed. 'You've been wearing that mask for a few years now, Colonel, but your friends know how you really feel. You can't hide it from them.'

'Just don't wanna talk about it,' Sheppard said firmly, leaving Carson in no doubt that his decision was final. 'Tell them I'm fine, and they can see me later when you've finished treating my injuries.'

'You military men are yer own worst enemies,' Carson smiled grimly, patting his shoulder. 'I'll get everything together we need to start treatment and then we'll get yeh off that backboard and make you more comfortable.'

Sheppard thanked him and watched him walk away, leaving him alone again. So, John Sheppard lived to fight another day, although it was unlikely to be anytime in the next month by the sound if things. A few more rebellious tears broke free, ignoring his mental instruction for them to stop forcing themselves forward, and he swiped them away with his good arm. In his heart, he knew Carson was right. His friends would understand the relief and the fear, but he wasn't used to putting his feelings on public display and didn't mean to start now. That wasn't the military way. So, he would assume the mask and live the lie. Good old unshakable Sheppard. Atlantis was still safe in his hands.


End file.
